Misfit Theater Company (Wattys Winner 2018)

13. Break a Leg (Part 1)

Today Thatcher and I are scheduled to perform our ten-minute play for the class. We've been rehearsing and we're ready--I know all my lines by heart--so now I just have to get over my nervousness about performing, especially now that Gina and I are fighting. Knowing that someone in the audience is waiting for me to fail is definitely intimidating. But I have to get it together.

I'm sitting in the audience between Patti and Thatcher, waiting for our turn to perform. We clap for the last scene—I honestly can't even tell you what it was about, because I was too busy running through my lines in my head—when Mrs. Permala calls, "Thatcher Gorsky and Janie Myers."

Just like everyone else who has gone before us, Thatcher and I step out from the audience and onto the stage. Patti pats me on the back as I pass her and whispers, "Break a leg," a theater phrase that means "good luck." Moth is seated on the other side of her and he gives me a thumbs up. I smile and reciprocate the gesture. He's a weird one.

I'm so nervous, I feel like I could shake right out of my skin, and I'm just sort of floating over myself. My hair gelled back in a tight pony tail, my black sweater, and my black church pants. Thatcher wears all black too. That's the requirement for performing these scenes since it's a "black box theater." But Thatcher's outfit is much more casual than mine, and I remember the story Thatcher told me about the mess his mom left their family in. I wonder if Thatcher has fancy clothes for stuff like this.

I don't see him as a casual guy in a black zip up hoodie and baggy black pants type, yet that's what he's wearing. I see him as maybe a guy who doesn't have black pants that fit him, because he doesn't go to church or anywhere nice, really. He's a guy who maybe didn't have a black shirt that was clean this morning, because seeing how his dad spends his time, Thatcher probably does the laundry himself, when he isn't studying or helping take care of his brothers, that is.

Thatcher and I take our props from the wings. I grab the chairs and he grabs the table, none of which are heavy. They're made of plastic, like the ones in Thatcher's attic.

I sit down in my chair for the scene to start and take a deep breath. You can do this, Janie, I tell myself.

"Scene," Mrs. Permala calls from her control booth and the lights dim over the audience. Now the only lights are on me and Thatcher.

He walks on stage with a forced smile on his face. I do my best not to laugh, like some of the people in the audience are. He's funny, and it's so effortless for him. Comedy is in his bones, and I suddenly feel super guilty for possibly compromising his ability to act in the funny one act Patti wants.

I have to stay focused.

"Hi there, are you Clarice?" he asks in character.

That's my cue.

"That's me. Which would make you George?"

He sits across from me. "That's right. Wow, you're a stunner. I knew that site matched us together for a reason."

"Thanks. It's nice to finally talk to you face to face, instead of between a screen."

"Agreed. Thank you for meeting me. I was afraid I would be stood up."

I check my watch, which I actually have on today. I borrowed it from my mom since no one my age actually has a watch anymore. "You're the one who is fifteen minutes late," I say with a hint of the actual bitterness I feel toward Gina still. Good, I think. Now people will think I'm a good actress.

He opens his eyes in fake surprise. "Oh, so this is how it's going to be."

"I don't know what you mean."